


we'll build new traditions in place of the old

by LexTheMoose



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Light Smut, M/M, Pining, Shyan Secret Santa 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:20:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21837262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexTheMoose/pseuds/LexTheMoose
Summary: A series of domestic traditions Ryan and Shane has been doing after two years of spending December together, but this year, it feels different for them both.*Written for the 2019 Shyan Secret Santa*
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 11
Kudos: 198
Collections: Shyan Secret Santa 2019





	we'll build new traditions in place of the old

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MercurySkies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercurySkies/gifts).



> Oh man, this was so much fun to write! I had the absolute best time participating in this event.
> 
> This fic is definitely the longest thing I ever wrote in my life and it's just pure fluff and pining, literally just some feel-good shit.
> 
> This is like Hallmark Movie level of tomfoolery, people. 
> 
> Despite that, I'm proud of myself for pushing through it, because I struggle writing anything long or "action-packed" if you will. I hype myself up too much and end up hating the finished fic, or thinking it's not good enough. And I did have a few moments like that this past month, but over-all, this is my best at the moment, so I will be damn proud of it!
> 
> Also, I wish the boys would've announced their eventual "fuck you" to Buzzfeed sooner before I had a clear cut idea of what I want in this fic, but oh well, I made it work in the end!
> 
> Thank you so so much if you've read this!  
> I really hope you like this fic MercurySkies, Happy Holidays! 💖
> 
> The title is from the song Snow by Sleeping At Last  
> Find me on tumblr: kingspapercrown.tumblr.com

It's always a little bit jarring how quiet Ryan's apartment is every December without his flatmates. No impossibly loud video game or movie sounds that find their way into his room even through the closed door. Or their Keurig that's going no matter what time of the day it is. Not to mention all the shouting if they sit down to play a few rounds of Smash Bros. It's dead silent.

Two years ago, it would've bothered Ryan, it would've driven him up the fucking wall after a few days. So he used to listen to podcasts, movie soundtracks in their living room, just loud enough so the neighbors wouldn't get pissed. It rarely helped to drown out his thoughts completely, but it was a valid attempt.

The first two weeks of December was just about the most miserable time of the year for Ryan. Both his flatmates were spending it with their girlfriends and it kept reminding Ryan how he couldn't hold together a relationship for not even a month, lately. 

Sure, he went on plenty of dates at first, took home all kinds of people, taking advantage of having the apartment to himself in these weeks but none of it was permanent. He always ended up alone in his bed after awkward mornings of goodbye and empty promises to call each other later. 

They just never seemed to work out and Ryan couldn't, for the life of him figure out why. 

So he went back to moping around, leaving the house as often as he could so he doesn't have to bear the emptiness of it. Jogging every morning, going to Disneyland with Shane, going to the movies with Shane, having lunch with Shane. 

It quickly turned into spending three days in a row over at Shane, because Ryan was too anxious to go home into his big, empty apartment that'd make him feel so alone. He even dealt with his allergy to Shane's cat, that's how desperate he was.

Shane was the perfect person to spend time with, single, only having Obi to spend his December with until he flew home to his parents. So Ryan has been clinging to him as if his fucking life depended on it to drown out all the lonely thoughts. Besides, he loved spending time with him also. He wouldn't mind staying over for all of the two weeks until they both leave. 

Shane had other ideas, however. He quickly got suspicious and pestered Ryan until he finally spat it out, almost a little ashamed of how he didn't want to go home to be alone.

So naturally, Shane dragged his ass back anyway and that's how their little pre-Christmas traditions started. 

Ryan was annoyed with him, but despite that, he was grateful and he knew Shane knew that too. He always seems to help Ryan face whatever he's afraid of, let it be a ghoul infested old building or the loneliness of Ryan's apartment. Shane gently forces him to face his fears, never pushing him too far, just enough to show Ryan 'see, it's not that bad' while being a constant presence of comfort if Ryan needs him to be. 

And so, December quickly became the month Ryan looked forward to the most. All he'd have to do is shoot the big guy a text the day after his flatmates left and he'd show up in less than thirty minutes. 

They built up a schedule, an unwritten thing, yet they both seemed to follow it to the T, without communicating, not dissimilar to how their entire relationship works.

"You know, I was thinking," Shane starts as they're walking through the Whole Foods that's the closest to Ryan's apartment.

"Oh no," Ryan jokes, pushing the cart, mostly because Shane told him once doing it himself kinda hurts his back due to his height. It's one of the little things Ryan always remembers about Shane subconsciously. How he takes his coffee, what kind of flavors are Shane's favorite or to not get anything overly spicy for him if he's in charge of their food.

"Fine, be like that and I'm not going to tell you." Shane scoffs as an answer, increasingly getting more offended when Ryan has the audacity to laugh at him. 

"Go on, big guy." He says eventually, lips still twitching into a smile, but he puts on his serious face. He even stops examining this new fancy looking bag of popcorn he has in his hand. That's how serious he is.

"We should make some cookies this year." Shane offers and Ryan raises his eyebrows as he turns to him, almost running the cart over someone's foot in the process. Oops. It just only occurs to him now how domestic this whole conversation is, spreading warmth through his whole body. They just casually walk through the aisles, discussing what they should have for dinner and _baking together_ apparently. Which sounds like a huge disaster if Ryan's honest with himself.

"What's wrong with store-bought?"

"It's shit." Shane deadpans.

"It's perfectly fine, like every year. Besides, do you know how to bake? Because I don't! I vaguely remember how to make those apple taters but I sure as hell have no idea how to even start gingerbread cookies from scratch." Ryan shakes his head, putting two of those bags of kernels in the cart and then starts to go look for some beer to go with it and "Paddington" later that night.

"We look up a recipe and learn. How hard could it be?" Shane shrugs, in that nonchalant way Ryan always envied about him.

"Fuck, sure, why not? Google what we need for it and let's go," Ryan laughs because well, Shane's right. Googling seemed to work when they had to do a seance, Ryan doesn't see why this should be different. Everything is so easy with Shane, and if he is so sure they can do it, they better give it a try, dammit!

Shane's hand comes up to rest on Ryan's back, the warmth of it seeps through his jacket as he lets out a delighted laugh, matching Ryan's bright smile. He's already thumbing through his phone for the perfect recipe.

"Do you think you'll finally beat me at gift wrapping?" Shane asks when he steps inside Ryan's apartment. Ryan turns his head from where he's half-sitting on the couch, legs propped up on the armrest. He watches Shane hang up his coat and lift four, pretty hefty looking bags. One of which has five of the same kind of festive wrapping paper sticking out of it. 

Ryan already stacked up every gift he'll have to wrap on the coffee table, with different kinds of wrapping papers, probably too much for the number of gifts but Ryan is not a _weirdo_ who can just decide on one kind of design and call it a day. 

"You can bet your butt I will! Besides, I was always faster than you, that has to count for something." He says, waiting for Shane to pile the bags next to the coffee table and help him push Ryan's big couch to the side so they can have some room for their stupid yearly contest to take place on the floor. 

"It's true, but at least my gifts don't look like Santa sat on them between breaks of delivery presents." Shane scoffs and Ryan wheezes so hard he almost trips over his legs, trying to sit on the ground. 

He hears and then sees Shane bark out a laugh when he witnesses his shitty coordination skills. Ryan's heart does a weird little rattle at the sight of him, sitting there, cross-legged and fidgeting with one of the rolls of wrapping paper to get it open, momentarily distracted by Ryan. That bright grin and the crinkle of his eyes, always catching Ryan off-guard at the most unexpected moments. 

When they are having lunch with the crew, Shane sitting across Ryan, listening to Devon with a small smile, or seeing Shane at ass o'clock in the morning, glasses perched in front of his sleepy eyes. Ryan can't help but stare, can't help but wonder how this beautiful man is even real.

Alright, he may have a Thing for Shane and he may have been trying to deal with this Thing for more than a year now. And if you ask Ryan, he's been pretty good at dealing with it. Surely it can't be that hard, they're still friends, he loves Shane a lot, regardless of the Thing. 

But sometimes, sometimes he just has to take a moment of appreciation, even though he physically has to stop himself to not kiss him on impulse in most cases.

"You okay there, buddy?" Shane asks, amusement clinging to his voice and Ryan's heart jumps to his throat, afraid he's been found out. He pushes down the panic rising in his chest, there is no need to jump to conclusions, he tries to tell himself that at least. 

"Yeah, dude. I'm clumsy, that's all. You should know that by now." Ryan sits, mimicking Shane's position and they both grab one of the first gifts that need to be wrapping. 

They both have their own technique, Ryan picks out the boxes first, those are the easiest to wrap, even for him. His skills are still far from perfect, there is too much tape, and uneven folding, but as long as no one turns them around they look decent.

The next ones are the weirdly shaped gifts, which Ryan tries to buy less of every year just to make it easier on himself, but he still got quite a bit of them piled up on the coffee table, unfortunately. 

Those are tough, he never quite knows how to even start with them, wasting a bit of time just trying to measure out how much wrapping paper he needs to cover all sides of it. not to mentions the _accidents_ he has to account for. Ripping the damn thing, or getting tape everywhere, making it looked like someone left a toddler alone with wrapping supplies.

Ryan is prepared with is extra paper at least, having learned from his mistakes from the first year they were doing this when he had to run to the store in the middle of their little contest because he wasted an entire roll. By the time he got back, Shane was done with everything, looking very smug and he rubbed it in Ryan's face all the damn time ever since. 

Fuck, he'll just put everything in a box next year.

Speaking of Shane, Ryan glances up at him, and just like that, he made his first mistake. He immediately gets distracted by the focused frown on Shane's face, how his tongue sticks out, being silly on purpose, but not quite aware of it at the same time. It's adorable. 

Then his gaze drifts down Shane's hand, doing the biggest box he has, probably something he got for his parents. It's the method he works by, Ryan takes note of it, for the first time, always so distracted by the adrenaline of the challenge rushing through him. Shane tackles the biggest presents first, to get them out of the way for the smaller ones. It's time-consuming to be that precise, but it sure pays off in the end. His presents are always so beautiful, dare he say professional looking.

Ryan is watching those big hands work, Shane's _terribly_ long and delicate fingers fold and tape, smoothing down the wrapping paper oh so gently beforehand. 

And Ryan makes the second mistake of that night, he thinks of those huge hands smoothing their way up Ryan's skin instead, covering his things, squeezing his ass and touching his dick. _God._

Ryan blinks himself back to reality feeling like he's been slapped. He closes his mouth, barely even registering it's been slightly open, that he's been fucking gaping at Shane, nearly drooling over him, it's ridiculous. 

It shouldn't be so difficult to hide his feelings, it's been fine before, so Ryan has no clue why it's suddenly _not fine_. Why he feels such a bone-deep lust at the sight of Shane wrapping up some goddamn socks for his brother. 

And oh, if it only would be that, being attracted to Shane. Maybe he could deal with that. Jerk off thinking about him a few times, hook up with guys who are just as tall, just as white and just as goofy.

He tried it all in the past, and only recently came to the conclusion of why Shane is ruining his life.

Those guys are simply not enough. 

He never stops thinking of Shane after he lays there, blissed out in his bed after some pretty amazing night with a guy, or himself. He wraps an arm around his pillow wishing it would be him, feeling just a tad bit pathetic.

He tries to date the guys he hooks up with. They work out for a while, but every single time Ryan has to realize they might look like Shane, but they're _not him_. 

The cute, short girls he dated were not Shane either. No matter who, or how similar, or different they are from him it's never what Ryan wants. 

He wants Shane. All of him.

That fact scared Ryan shitless, having to face just how badly he wants to date Shane. Ruining their friendship can't be an option no matter how much Ryan pines. So he just left it at that. As a fact that yes, he's in love with his best friend. It doesn't mean he has to do anything about it.

And Ryan's been good. He's been _so good_! Barely even acting different around him, letting the show push them even closer, ignoring his heart aching in a complicated way for the entire shooting of the last season when Shane kept reminding everyone they're _such good friends_. 

He even did the innuendos, leaning into them on purpose because the viewers loved it and Ryan loved it too, touching Shane's face randomly, jokingly calling him daddy because he could. If Shane would ever seriously question what the fuck they were doing, Ryan would just shrug and say "It's for the audience. They love the fanservice dude, and it's funny!" 

Of course, if Shane ever showed signs of being uncomfortable Ryan would've stopped immediately. But the thing is, he didn't. Shane if not directly causing the innuendos, he'd just shake his head in that fond way Ryan loved being the cause of.

And he will admit, he's kind of a slut for attention, for Shane's attention specifically. Making him laugh sends a ridiculous amount of serotonin rushing through his veins every single time. Or even just pissing Shane off, annoying the shit out of him. It's all for the same purpose, really. For Shane to only pay mind to him and no one else. 

He feels his cheeks burning as he goes back to wrapping. He really needs to stop staring at his friend's hands like a creep. He can still beat Shane at the time if nothing else.

Ryan's gifts turn pretty poor compared to Shane's, as expected. He ends up being the one to clean up and pay for their dinner but it was worth it just a little bit, seeing that self-satisfied smile on Shane's face. He'll get him next year. 

"You've got so much stuff! I miss the first year when I had to bring shit over." Shane huffs, having finished dragging out a box full of decorations of one of the bigger closets. He's out of breath by the time they get everything. "Such a sad little tree it was." 

"Hey don't you berate it, Madej! You should be glad we even found a tree in the first place on the 20th of December. Okay, it was a bit..." Ryan trails off, trying to find the right word that doesn't sound overly negative. 

"Rough looking? Tragic?" Shane offers, not being helpful in the slightest. 

"Shut the fuck up, Shane." Ryan huffs, followed up by a whine of complaint, coming from Shane and the clack of the plastic ornament Ryan threw at him, then a collective wheeze from both of them.

"Anyway, our- the tree is looking better than it did the first year so stop complaining." Ryan continues, stumbling over his words for a split second. His anxiety rises again as he carefully peeks at Shane, watching for his reaction. He almost said too much. 

Thankfully Shane's smile is as warm as ever, turning into exaggerated outrage over Ryan's statement. He seemingly didn't notice his little slip-up, too busy being a drama queen. Ryan sighs a gentle breath of relief.

"Except I will complain! It's a fake tree, an impostor, Ryan! It will never have the sweet, sweet smell of pine. In fact, it smells like the inside of this closet. Which is not pleasant. Seriously, you heathens need to clean this shit more often." He scoffs while getting on the task of untangling the mass of lights because Ryan and his flatmates are savages and they never heard of fucking zip ties. "Anyway, it won't ever have the same feeling of walking over to it and getting your feet full of little spiky boys." 

"Please don't call the pine needles little spiky boys," Ryan says, letting out a pained groan and Shane naturally ignores him, he's on a tangent.

"I can't wait to go home to Schaumburg and relish in the smell of a _real_ Christmas tree. That's the only thing the first year shabby tree was superior in."

"Okay, I get it! Stop throwing shade at me, Roland and the boys will kill me if I get needles all over the place. Again. I still found some of those little bitches in next year June!" Ryan rolls his eyes and chases after Shane with the intent of finally yeeting him off this mortal coil after he tries to correct him, muttering "spiky boys" under his breath.

An hour and a half of banter and wheezy laughter later the apartment looks pretty damn festive. Not too much, because they don't want the place looking like Santa barfed all over it. As Shane put it kindly.

String lights are hanging on the windowsill and over their big TV now and they wrapped some garlands around the handle of the stairs leading up to Ryan's room. It will look beautiful once it gets dark and they turn off the overhead lights, wrapping the room in a cozy, warm light. Ryan might fetch them some of the fluffy blankets later when they're all tucked away on the couch, having some beers or even hot chocolate if they'll have the energy to make some. It might be what Ryan's looking forward to the most, the sheer romantic setting of it all. Maybe he'll even light some candles before they will have some take out for dinner on the couch if he's feeling brave enough. 

He knows it probably won't mean anything to Shane, just having a nice movie night with his best friend, not knowing how much it means to Ryan, the fact that he'll be able to experience all of that, even when they possibly won't ever be romantically involved. It's still nice, a fond memory to warm his heart later. 

They're working in a comfortable silence setting up the tree, one of them chipping in with some quiet comments every now and again, making the other laugh, or starting a small fight about color coordinating the damn tree. 

And then Shane starts humming, shaking Ryan out of his thoughts, in a deep dilemma about where to put a red ornament. He lifts his head, staying still to listen, it sounds a lot like "It Feels Like Christmas" and he can't help but snort quietly, not wanting to disturb Shane. He did remember that one tweet of his from last year. 

How Shane sings that one song at all times since the beginning of December. Ryan witnessed it too on a couple of occasions but never like this.

He sang it obnoxiously, to annoy Ryan every chance he got, he sang it on Instagram for Obi and to the delight of the fans. That poor cat has a lot to deal with. In the office, entirely too early in the morning for someone to be that cheery. Curly threw a stapler at him and almost hit.

It's different this time, however, when it's just the two of them when Ryan finally got his head out of his ass and admitted his feelings to himself. So many things hit different ever since, and Ryan is still struggling to catch up. He's still dazed sometimes when his heart would skip a beat because Shane did something completely ordinary, or existed in the first place, but Ryan's heart had an entirely different opinion, soaring simply at the sight of him every now and again. 

When Shane hums so quietly, lost in his head, probably, having such a happy little smile on his face. Ryan's heart aches with want, to reach up and cup his dumb, big face, yank him down into a kiss as soft as he's singing right now. He doesn't, though. He shouldn't. 

They both step back to admire their work about thirty minutes later when the tree was finished and lit up all pretty. They didn't bother with color-coding it as some people do, they threw all kinds of colorful shit on it they could find. Still, it radiates warmth, reminds Ryan of the time he spends with his family, because Shane is, Ryan thinks, as the realization hits him. Shane overstepped the "co-worker" status a long time ago, even before they started doing Unsolved together. He's been a lot of things to Ryan over the years. Friend, to best friend, to crush that turned into so much more, love of his life if Ryan wants to be cheesy. No matter what though, _he's family_. 

"That's a dope ass tree!" Ryan says with a crooked grin, offering his hand for a high five before he drives himself to tears with too much thinking over a fucking Christmas tree. That would be pretty embarrassing. 

"It's our dope ass tree." Shane slaps his hand into Ryan's who's almost frozen in place, arm still up in the air, and eyes wide all of a sudden. Did Shane really just gently correct him?

He flushes all the way down to his neck, realizing that Shane is probably just messing with him, having heard what he almost said an hour or two ago, if his shit-eating grin is anything to go by.

"So uhh- how about that movie night? I know exactly what we should watch." Ryan says, changing the subject before he makes an even bigger fool of himself.

"Oh? I'm intrigued. Make the living room ready then while I get on the popcorn!" 

They're watching the end credits of "The Muppet Christmas Carol" two whole bowls of popcorn, some beers and lots of singing along later, nestled into soft blankets and fluffy pillows Ryan previously set up on the couch, just like he imagined earlier. He was too much of a coward for a candlelit dinner, however.

Shane did most of the singing, Ryan wheezing at him in the background but he joined in for the songs he knew the most.

"Mhm, best night ever. Excellent movie choice." Shane announces, he draped his feet over Ryan's legs about halfway through the movie, because Ryan didn't mind. Did he silently freak out over the domesticity of the situation a little bit? Yes, yes he did.

"Want me to help clean up before I go?" Shane asks, stretching his long legs out before standing. It's always how they did things, it's part of the tradition. Shane comes in the morning and leaves at night. It's an unspoken rule if you will. 

"I'll do it tomorrow it's okay," Ryan says gently, biting the inside of his cheek. He doesn't know what comes over him, but he goes on, voice cracking only a little bit. "You could stay. It's dark outside I mean. Shouldn't drive so late." 

Shane takes a moment to answer, looking just as surprised as Ryan feels. "Where would I sleep? Your couch is not the best, no offense."

"I'm sure Roland wouldn't mind you crashing in his room. But I can ask him." Ryan shrugs, reaching for his phone and looking back at Shane before even unlocking it. He doesn't know what makes him so brave, maybe it's the slight buzz of the beer or the gentle light of the fairy lights they hang up earlier. 

"Or you could sleep in my bed. It's big enough." 

They stare at each other silently for a few seconds, Shane too shocked to say anything yet and Ryan holding his breath, already overthinking it, already wanting to take it back, laugh it off, tell Shane he's joking. His heart is about to fucking stop when Shane finally answers.

He looks slightly confused still and flustered even, running his hand through his hair like he doesn't know what to do with his hands. He's smiling though, to Ryan's absolute relief. 

"Sure, we can do that."

Ryan decides huge mistakes were made right about when he woke up with Shane pressed against him from behind. 

Everything was peachy keen when they went to bed, Ryan didn't hesitate to tell Shane how fucking ridiculous he looked in his borrowed clothes, the sweatpants were way too short and almost small while the shirt Ryan fetched him was a tad too big. 

"You look like a fucked up cartoon character." Ryan had told him, face hurting from grinning so much. At the time he thought, what's the big deal? They shared a bed before on location, this shouldn't be any different. 

They both got under the covers, it wasn't weird, it wasn't awkward. Shane fell asleep stupidly fast, a character trait Ryan was always jealous of. He couldn't just turn off his brain so easily, not even in his own home. Especially not with a 6'4 gorgeous man lying right next to him. 

Or with his brain gradually making him feel more and more miserable. It keeps asking the right questions, like what if Shane starts dating someone next year? Surely he won't hang out with Ryan for weeks then, just before Christmas and Ryan wouldn't expect that from him anyway. He will be with the person he loves and Ryan knows damn well his heart will break, no matter how okay he is with being Shane's best friend only for the rest of their lives, possibly. 

That scenario will inevitably come, and what then? Ryan will have to suck it up and move on without messing up what they have. 

He doesn't remember falling asleep, but he does recall a lean arm being draped over him followed by Shane's unfairly long legs and Ryan let himself getting pulled closer, pressing up against Shane's chest, burying his face into the shirt he borrowed already starting to smell like him. He's comfortable and happy and finally, for the first time in a while, his brain is blissfully quiet.

Midnight-Ryan was a real dick for leaving this whole situation for morning-Ryan to deal with, however. And morning-Ryan was desperately hard in his basketball shorts on top of it all. 

He had the genius idea to turn his back on Shane's sleeping form and now Shane's draped over him like a goddamn blanket and Ryan is hot in more than one way because he's pretty fucking sure that's not Shane's elbow or knee pressing into his lower back either.

He tries to stay very still, he regulates his breathing like he's still sleeping. Shane certainly is asleep, right?

That thought barely occurs to him when he feels Shane's long fingers brush over Ryan's belly where his shirt has ridden up as Shane slowly withdraws his hand. Ryan has to muster every self-control he has left to not jump, from the suddenness of the touch and how ticklish he is there. 

Shane's hand doesn't disappear entirely, he traces a delicate finger over Ryan's hip, just barely visible over his shorts. It's a careful stroke of his fingertips, almost teasing and Ryan has to move a little, to press his face into his pillow more, otherwise, he might do something stupid. Stupid, like moan out loud, or just turn and surge up to finally press their lips together. 

He doesn't do any of that though, not when Shane's hand stops momentarily and then continues to ever so slightly caress over his side and hips. He squeezes it gently, stroking a thumb over Ryan's skin and Ryan feels his hips move behind him, he feels the drag of Shane's dick on his waist and he's painfully aware of how his cock gives a very interested twitch at being teased and rubbed against so gently.

Before he could get into it, and maybe start grinding his ass back, he hears Shane take a shaky breath behind him, and then his hand is gone, suddenly, like he's been burned. Ryan muffles a whine at the back of his throat, missing the warmth of his touch already.

He's about to convince himself to turn around, to tell Shane he wants him so bad, show him just how much. He's so damn close to doing it.

However, before he could make up his mind and go for it, finally Shane scoots away from him. Ryan feels the bed dip and hears Shane's scratchy, sleepy voice as he speaks, not completely aware of talking out loud.

"Fuck, what am I doing?" It's barely above a whisper, Ryan could've easily missed it if he wouldn't have been so hyperfocused on Shane. 

There is nothing else, only the silent creak of Ryan's bed, the patter of Shane's bare feet on the wooden floor and the careful closing of Ryan's bedroom door.

Ryan lets out a long groan, still muffled by his pillow as he curls upon himself. He's utterly and absolutely _fucked_.

When Ryan joins Shane about half an hour later they both seem to act as if nothing happened. Ryan pretending he wasn't awake and Shane pretending he didn't just give Ryan material for wet dreams for weeks.

Shane might be smiling casually, making coffee and even pancakes, he might be excellent at hiding his feelings, but Ryan knows him like he knows no one else and that's a bit of a heady realization on a Sunday morning.

He sees the way Shane's eyes dart down when they meat Ryan's like he's almost ashamed or uncomfortable and it makes Ryan nervous also.

They do sit and eat their breakfast in relative silence and as Ryan sits there, sipping his coffee and zoning out, watching Shane go through his social media, all sleepy eyes and messy hair, the sight makes his heart flutter. 

He wants all his mornings to be like this one from now on. Walking up to Shane and wrapping his arms around him from behind the chair, complaining about each other's morning breath and leaning in for a kiss anyway. 

Ryan wants to run his fingers through those devastatingly long strands of soft-looking hair, he's practically _dying to_ ever since Shane decided to start growing it out. 

The mustache was an unfortunate choice on Shane's part that Ryan found weirdly and unexpectedly hot still. But then again, he finds that most things are hot when it comes to Shane. The times he imagined Shane eating him out while rocking that awful thing on his face definitely occurred more than he thought they would. 

"So, wanna make some cookies today?" Shane breaks the silence a few minutes later, putting both of their cups in the sink to deal with later. Ryan shrugs.

"I still think it's a very bad idea, considering we're- us." He wheezes. "But sure, let's do it! I love a challenge."

"We can make it into a little game. Whoever makes the worst cookies has to clean up the fucking huge mess we will inevitably make." Shane says with a snort.

"Oh god, I have to win now. If this is like the gift wrapping thing and you're gonna beat me because you have the patience of a fucking monk I'm never talking to you again!" Ryan threatens, even though he knows it's not effective at all if Shane's bright laugh is any indication.

"Anyway, I happen to know my mom's recipe and she makes the best goddamn cookies. Nothing can top it, don't you even _dare_ disagree with me, Shane!" 

"I wasn't about to! I dream about those sweet little bastards ever since you first brought some in the office. I don't think we can do it justice, Ryan, it's just not fair to your mom. I'd be ashamed!" Shane sighs, as dramatically as only he can do and Ryan huffs out a laugh again. "Besides, wouldn't that give you an advantage? Since I assume you've done this recipe before?"

"Never alone, just helped in." Ryan points out, shrugging. "I know shit about baking." 

"Well, that makes the two of us, so this should be interesting."

An hour and a half later they have their second batch of cookies in the oven Ryan is currently feeling pretty terrible about his decorating skills. 

"They're not that bad," Shane says as he abandons the piping bag he's been holding, letting it leak green frosting all over the counter. It's covered in powdered sugar anyway, so it's not like it matters in the slightest anymore.

"They look like crap."

"Oh come on, that sleigh is pretty neat." Shane peers over his shoulder, pointing at one of the gingerbread cookies with brown frosting all over it, leaking off the sides.

Ryan's voice is thin as he answers, sounding just a tiny bit devastated. "It's supposed to be a reindeer." 

"Oh, Ryan..." That is all Shane dares to say, because he would burst out laughing otherwise. Ryan still slaps him on the arm, _hard_.

"I'm not even surprised you're good at this, but fuck you regardless," Ryan mutters with a scoff, watching Shane work, trying not to stare too much at his hands because it might just kill him inside and he's not going off on that tangent about Shane's hands again. No, sir. 

He's already done with his decorating, if he can even call it that, so he's just hovering close to Shane now, watching him work. He doesn't even want to look at his own finished batch, he hates them so much.

"Well, I am! They're turning out great, this is not what I expected at all." Shane smiles up at Ryan, clearly so proud of himself Ryan almost melts all over the fucking counter.

"Oh please, you drew the entire design of that Hot Daga shirt, didn't you? You must have known you have _some_ artistic talent at least." He says instead, still aware of the perhaps entirely too lovestruck smile he gives Shane.

"It can still taste bad." Shane shrugs, shrugging almost shyly and Ryan is delighted by the pink of his cheeks. He's most certainly going to compliment Shane more often if this is the reaction he gets.

He's carefully piping some decoration on a tiny Christmas tree, and sprinkling some crushed up peppermint candy on top, too concentrated to notice Ryan shamelessly snatch a little gingerbread ghost away from Shane's side of the counter. Ryan adores him for the work he put into it for such a skeptic, individually cutting them out with a knife and icing it carefully. It's not perfect but miles better than the mess Ryan has on his counter. He's just not crafty or artistic whatsoever.

He bites into the ghost carefully, and sure it's nowhere near like the ones his mother makes but it's pretty good, Ryan tells him as much too.

They decide on a tie, in the end, Ryan's gingerbread cookies looking worse for wear but tasting pretty amazing, according to Shane, and the ones Shane made looking good with a miss on the flavor. They complement each other as always.

"I'm exhausted by just looking at this." Shane sighs, taking a look around at the mess they made of Ryan's kitchen. 

"I didn't even know we had so much flour. Why is it _literally everywhere_? Even in your hair." Ryan points out and before he could stop his impulsive brain he reaches out to make an attempt at brushing most of the flour out of Shane's hair. He has to stand on his tiptoes for it to work, but Shane quickly catches on and leans down.

He stares at Ryan the whole time, all wide eyes and pink cheeks, the flush slowly creeping down his neck. "Uhh, yeah thanks."

Ryan snatches his hand away and lets out a kind of awkward wheeze. He honestly didn't need to know just how _soft_ Shane's hair really is. It'll haunt him for sure. 

He can't stop thinking about it, not even when they're over at Shane's apartment, sipping on some mid-range wine with all the classic Christmas carols softly playing from Shane's record player.

Shane's not even drunk in the slightest but he's singing along to his favorite parts, in a slightly goofy voice, only to make Ryan do one of those full-body laughs. It's one of his favorite sounds in the world, not to mention it's indeed a sight for sore eyes.

He gets a brilliant idea, grabbing poor Obi from the couch where he was snoring peacefully, not paying any mind to them, curled up next to Ryan's legs. 

It's most certainly an improvement compared to how he sprinted away from Ryan the first time they have met, hiding under Shane's bed. Ryan didn't mind at all, considering his allergy, it was for the better, really.

The problem occurred when he actually started getting fond of the orange furball. Obi would slowly get used to him, he wouldn't hide anymore when Ryan would come over. And well, Ryan started buying allergy meds again. 

It took a few months for Obi to accept pets from him, but by now he's shamelessly walking all over Ryan, sitting in his lap whenever he damn pleases and curls up there all the time, sleeping like a baby.

Just like he would've done now if Shane didn't start torturing him by dancing around in the living room with him to the sound of "Let It Snow".

He attempted at singing too, but Obi's wide-eyed expression kept making him grin, so he focused on Ryan instead, shaking from laughter and looking at them both with a spark of fondness in his eyes and something else, something much bigger and deeper than just their friendly bond. 

Shane has seen so much of that look, he doesn't know why they're stalling still, both of them afraid to take the first step to raise their relationship to a new level.

"Shane, you're fucking traumatizing him," Ryan says, still breathing heavily and reaching for the glass he had to put on the coffee table because he was laughing so hard.

"He'll be fine," Shane promises as he lets go of Obi who started twisting out of his arm after his shock dissipated. He sprints across the room and then settles on the windowsill, seemingly offended that his beloved dad would betray him like that.

Shane and Ryan took one look at each other, bursting out in giggles like little kids again. Maybe they did have a little too much wine. Maybe that's why Shane decides he's had enough.

"Dance with me, then," He offers, extending his hand towards Ryan who blinks up at Shane, caught off guard and lips slightly parted. Slightly buzzed and much braver from the alcohol, Ryan stands without a second thought, gripping Shane's hand. 

"You wanna dance, big guy? Let's fucking dance!" He wheezes when Shane does too, pulling him closer and starts doing some terrible uncoordinated form of waltz with Ryan, still laughing and holding onto each other's hands tightly. Ryan leans on Shane's shoulder for a few moments, resting his head there, breathing him in. The Christmas sweater they picked out together in Target last year is still super ugly, yet ridiculously soft as Ryan presses his face into it. He has a matching one in his closet somewhere Ryan swore he'll never wear unironically as Shane does.

He gets a little lost in the feeling of Shane's arm around him, he doesn't know how they ended up in an embrace, swaying side to side, but honestly, he doesn't even care, nor mind in the slightest. He lifts his head eventually to look Shane in the eyes properly.

Shane stops moving, shamelessly taking in the sight of him, Ryan's blinding smile, the way Shane's hung up Christmas lights reflect off his eyes. He's mesmerized.

"What? See something funny on me?" Ryan says, barely above a murmur. Shane would love to kiss that smug smile off his face.

"Your stupid attractive face." He blurts out instead, no brain to mouth filter whatsoever.

"You're drunk," Ryan says, shaking his head slightly and smiling. Shane's heart drops, disappointment blooming in his chest. He wants to say he's not drunk, not from like two glasses of wine, honestly, he's not a wimp. But Ryan knows. And Shane knows he knows.

They could just keep dancing around each other metaphorically too, then. This is fine. 

"You're right. We should call it a night, we're both going home tomorrow, so..." He says sheepishly, letting go of him and Ryan nods, a little too frantically. The fun, giggly air of the room is gone, replaced by tension and Shane just wants to get out, take a shower, go to bed, _not think about Ryan_. 

"I should go too. Umm thanks. See you in the morning?" Ryan asks, seemingly wanting the same thing Shane does. He pets Obi once more, on his way to the door. 

Shane almost forgot Ryan will be the one taking him to the airport the next morning. He drags a hand down his face and smiles at Ryan. 

"Sure thing, buddy. See ya!" He needs all his self-restraint to not cringe visibly. Great way of letting Ryan know you want more, idiot.

The car ride the next morning is quiet, Ryan is focusing on the road and Shane is sleepily scrolling through his social media, idly wondering if he should've gotten some coffee earlier instead of the nasty one they have at LAX. 

Ryan, on the other hand, keeps glancing at him, he could barely get any sleep last night, overanalyzing every little thing he did wrong, convincing himself Shane would never want anything more than being friends from him. Ryan imagined too much into it, Shane is just being a good friend, right?

"So, see you after the holidays?" Shane asks quietly, both standing at the bottom edge of the escalator because Ryan can't go further than that.

"Yeah, see you, big guy," Ryan says, looking up at him, but none of them move just yet. They're standing so close that their height difference is notorious. So close, that Shane could just lean in, reach out and smooth a palm up to cup his cheeks, to kiss Ryan senseless right there in front of everyone, not giving a flying fuck.

He could, but he doesn't. A man coughs at them, quite rudely, because all six foot of Shane is in the way of the stairs. He murmurs an apology, taking a step back and the moment is gone. Shane pats him on the back, feeling like a goddamn fool before following the man up the escalator. 

He turns to look back at Ryan who ducks his head and there is something heartbreaking in the way he wraps his arms around himself for a few seconds. Like Shane was supposed to do. He couldn't even give Ryan a fucking hug, he's the shittiest friend ever. 

He wishes he could have more time, but his plane is ready to depart, and Ryan is turning away, going back to his car.

An awful, sick little feeling of regret settles in Shane's stomach, his heart jumps into his throat and stays there the whole time he's checking in.

Ryan had a blast over at his parents, as always, laughing his heart out with the huge family he'd do anything for. It always made up for the lonely weeks of December if he's honest with himself, feeling so loved when he's at home, at his parent's house, surrounded by these people that are so important to him. 

After spending so much time with Shane though, especially around the holidays, the big guy always seems to be at the back of his mind. Ryan can't help but imagine him there, with his family. His abuelas would love him, Ryan had no doubt about it, Shane would quickly become a favorite, among most of his family, really.

He does wonderful with kids, Ryan knows that, and he'd charm the hell out of his aunts too.

Ryan sees him everywhere, no matter what they do, like a ghost. 

Ryan sees him helping his mom in the kitchen and making her laugh, having a quiet conversation with his dad, or most of Ryan's younger nieces being all over him, adoring how much of a giant he is, begging to be picked up and go on a piggyback ride. 

Shane would be the sweetest, laughing and going along with their schemes. 

And when they're all exhausted and it's so nice out, they'd stand on the porch, listening to the soft music and the buzz of Ryan's family inside.

Shane would wrap his arm around him, and Ryan would stand on his tippy toes because he's still ridiculously and amazingly tall, Shane has to lean down to press their lips together, standing there for minutes or hours, both of them lose track of the time soon enough.

It's one of the most painful visions that haunt him, so Ryan avoids their porch for the most part. When he's full of Christmas dinner and his relatives start to get on his nerves after a while, he locks himself in his childhood room to get some peace and quiet for a while.

He also may or may not miss Shane more than he thought he would. It's hard not to when all he hears is questions about when Ryan will take a nice person home. The pressure of getting a long term relationship is looming over him, even at home. 

And Ryan just had to run away from it a little, away from the realization that the person he desperately wants to bring home, for every single Christmas in the foreseeable future is currently miles away from him in the middle of Schaumburg somewhere.

Ryan also desperately wants to talk to him.

**Hey, big guy. How are you doing?**

He gets hit in the face with a big ol' amount of nostalgia, feeling like a teenager again, who anxiously awaits his crush's response and cringes at his own messages.

Shane, instead of answering right away, sends him a video. 

It starts with an excessive amount of snow and the frame of Shane's brother among it all. He's gathering up a bunch of the snow in his hands and throwing it at Shane who's the one recording. 

The footage shakes from Shane's sudden laughter that rings out next to the mic, so bright and happy and warm, Ryan's heart aches with it. He doesn't even realize how hard he's grinning and wheezing softly as he watches these two grown-ass men play in the snow like little kids, giggling and shouting at each other. 

And then Shane's face pops up as he switches to the front camera, they seemingly stopped tormenting each other for now. He's all flushed, snow clinging to his hair, his jacket, Ryan is fucking cold just by looking at him. 

Unfortunately, it's also the most precious thing he's ever seen. He could honestly cry from the image Shane makes, how his eyes crinkle by the force of his grin, all the fluffy white of the snow surrounding him, making him glow like a goddamn angel. 

The video ended about a minute ago, but Ryan is still just staring at his screen, almost in awe. The realization hit him hard, not only he wants Shane to be there, with his family but Ryan wants to be there with him too.

Sure he'd complain a lot, of the snow especially, Shane teasing him about his delicate Californian skin but it would be worth it. Ryan could deal with it all if he could warm Shane up after they got done goofing around in the snow.

Ryan would cup Shane's cute, dumb face between his hands, tucked away in Shane's old room, stroking his cheeks until his skin warms up under Ryan's fingertips. He'd kiss him over and over again, making sure the cold is not the only thing his lips are numb from anymore.

The buzz of his phone breaks Ryan out of his daydreams before he could start feeling a little pathetic about laying on his bed and yearning for kissing his best friend. He certainly is acting like a teen again despite turning thirty in a year.

Ryan briefly panics upon seeing Shane is trying to FaceTime him, as if he could read his thoughts and know what Ryan had in mind mere seconds ago. 

"Hey, little guy!" Shane's pops into view as Ryan takes the call. And fuck, Shane looks _so soft_. Exactly how Ryan imagined him, it's almost like a slap in the face by the universe itself. 

He looks freshly showered, sleepy. His hair is perfect, it's been ruining Ryan's life ever since Shane decided to start growing it out. He's dying to sink his fingers into it, feel the softness of his strands, yank on them when Ryan's sinking into him just to hear Shane moan.

Ryan quickly swipes a hand through his hair in an attempt to make it look more decent and to distract himself from that train of thought before he becomes a blushy mess. He probably only achieved messing it up more, going by Shane's amused expression.

"So, do you have your gift?" Shane asks and Ryan kicks himself mentally for forgetting about it. It's another gesture that hits pretty romantic in hindsight, giving each other presents and opening them while Face Timing, because the next time they'll meet in person is going to be next year. 

"I do have it in my room, right this moment, but just gimme a sec. So I can get it." Ryan says, trying to keep straight face as he places his phone on the bedside table, giving a perfect view of his bed from there. All Shane sees is a blur of Ryan's red plaid sweatpants paired with a worn-out grey hoodie as he hurries out of the room, followed by Shane's brilliant laugh.

It's easy to find Shane's box, Ryan didn't see him wrap it, but it's just as precise as he expected it, with a little tag glued neatly on the top right corner of it. _To Ryan, from Shane_ , it says, right next to a small ghost drawn in sharpie. Ryan adores this man.

Not to mention the pretty blue of the paper being covered with goddamn cartoon hot dogs. It's been three years and Ryan has no idea why and how are there so many different designs of motherfucking hot dog wrapping paper but Shane finds and buys every single one, for the sole purpose of tormenting Ryan with it on every occasion, let it be his birthday or Christmas.

He's smiling so hard his face hurts when he joins Shane again, who's sitting at his old desk, chin propped up in his palm as he gives Ryan that Cheshire smile Ryan wishes he could see in person right now.

"At least one of us is prepared." Shane teases, waving the envelope Ryan gave him in the car right before they took off to LAX. It's somewhat nicely wrapped - Ryan has rarely spent so much time on perfecting something that's going to be ripped apart in under a week - in a mossy green color, and a little Bigfoot walking in a scarf all over it. Two can play the obnoxious wrapping paper game. 

"Shut up, Shane. Want me to start?" Ryan asks because he's definitely nervous about his gift for Shane. To Ryan's surprise, Shane seems to be feeling the same. He can hear the tap-tap of his fingers drumming on the table and sees unmistakable the tension in his shoulders and Ryan doesn't understand it. 

He was always so casual about his gifts, even if they were great, always something Ryan genuinely was happy with or needed.

Ryan doesn't understand it at all until he peels off the cartoon hot dogs and gently lifts the top of the box off. In there, there are two ornaments, shaped like a stuffed bag of movie popcorn, vibrant and realistic and beautiful, probably hand-painted. 

Ryan's heart swells with affection as he looks up at his phone, searching Shane's nervous expression.

"It's for our tree," Shane says, blurting it out, and closing his eyes for a second like he said too much already. He forces himself to look Ryan in the eyes though, and power through. Ryan's mouth suddenly feels like it's stuffed with cotton. 'Our tree' sounds a lot like a confession.

"I know it's kind of a lame gift. Sorry about that." He laughs, tension rolling off of him in waves as he continues, just rambling at this point. "It's handmade and glass, by the way, so be careful with it. And umm, it's engraved on the bottom." 

Ryan takes one out, he only notices his hand shaking, ever so slightly as he gingerly picks one of the ornaments up and turns it around to read the words there.

"Oh my god-" Ryan murmurs and let's out a laugh that suspiciously sounds like a sob, and Ryan feels a little stupid, even though he's not ashamed of crying anymore.

Crying over Christmas ornaments in front of the man he loves is pretty embarrassing, however. 

He traces the rough letters with his thumb, and something swells in his chest as he reads the familiar words over and over again. He remembers the tweet from years ago, and he means it to this day, possibly even more so. _We took an oath._

It's not a pair of Jordans he wanted for months or horribly expensive Lakers tickets, but Ryan thinks that's why Shane is so so good at gift choosing. 

None of those things would make his heart race as fast as it does now. None of it would make Ryan smile so bright, looking up at Shane, and seeing him relax finally, looking at Ryan with such a warm expression, making him ache with the desire to kiss him. 

And Ryan is relieved too, because they're finally on the same page now, completely open, not trying to hide anymore. All the cards are on the table now.

"It's not lame. It's- it's great." Ryan says eventually, gingerly putting the box aside, like it's precious and wiping at his eyes with his palm, that smile never leaving his face as he looks into the camera, holding Shane's gaze.

"For _our_ tree." He says because he feels like he has to like he's saying 'I love you' back to someone.

Shane ducks his head, hiding his big smile, almost shyly and clearing his throat, picking up the envelope Ryan gave him just to do something with his hands. "So, my turn?" 

"Go ahead. I hope you won't be mad." Ryan adds his stomach ties into nervous knots, watching Shane carefully peel away the wrapping paper with a thoughtful hum.

He reveals a printed out email, from their bosses to Ryan. Shane looks up at him, eyes wide. 

"Oh my God, Ryan! Is this your way of letting me know you don't want me on Unsolved anymore? Is it my fucking letter of resignation?" He jokes, laughing with Ryan when he lets out a wheeze. "Getting rid of your ol' skeptic, huh? You finally got tired of my shit. Ah well, I can't blame you. We had a good run!" 

"Just fucking read it, you asshole!" Ryan says, still grinning. As if he would ever get tired of Shane's shit. He said it before and he'll say it again, the big guy is irreplaceable. He's tugging on the sleeves of his hoodie still, being terrible at hiding how he's a bundle of nerves at the moment, watching Shane's reaction.

Shane does read it, twice, and once more. He just can't believe it, so he reads it again, before lifting his head to look at Ryan, lips slightly open, tilted into an astonished smile and Ryan has never felt more proud. Maybe when Unsolved started trending regularly. _Maybe._

He worked for months and months prior to get that damn email Shane was holding in his hands right now. He knew this is what he wanted to go for right away when they offered them a slightly bigger budget for their next _Supernatural_ season. 

Shane is good at hiding his feelings, but Ryan knew he was devastated when Ruining History didn't get a second season, BuzzFeed deeming it too expensive and not a worthy investment. It meant a lot to Shane, having something that's his, even though Unsolved is their baby, Ryan could understand it.

So, he took the chance and put in a request to put the budget towards another season of Shane's show. It could've never happened without the help of Katie, - who is a literal angel - and Ryan thought many times that it just can't be done, the company simply doesn't give a shit. He even saved some backup gifts for Shane on Amazon.

Maybe they should just run away and start their own company, that's an idea Ryan has been tossing around his head a lot, in the past year. They could get another person involved, Steven maybe. Have ownership of everything they're making. Well, if Shane would like that too. Sure, he enjoys Unsolved, but their own company, that would tie them together for the foreseeable future.

But then receiving that email, the one confirming a second season for Ruining History and sitting next to Shane nonetheless, Ryan wanted to scream in pure joy. So many hours of petitioning went into that piece of paper, both at their work, both online. He moved every string he could with the higher-ups and it was worth it, Ryan knows it was, seeing the bright, gorgeous smile of Shane. He really would do anything for seeing that smile and it's a bit of a heady realization.

"Ryan." He starts softly, eyes shining and Ryan's glad he's not the only one getting emotional. He got Shane Madej speechless and flustered, such a rare sight. "Is this real? I mean- how? I thought they didn't want me to do another season?"

"Well, they probably don't. But Unsolved got a little more budget so I figured why not give this a shot?" Ryan shrugs and laughs at Shane's bewilderment and continues before he could say anything. "Besides, I'd rather listen to you talk about weird shit from hundreds of years ago than look for ghosts in Paris or whatever." 

Shane scoffs, obviously not believing a word he says, but Ryan has to realize he actually means it. 

"I can't believe it. I-" he starts, and cuts himself off, a little alarmed and flushed before correcting himself, but still smiling, like a kid who got the present he wanted for years. It reminds Ryan of one of the BuzzFeed videos Shane has been in when they gave him the Batmobile toy. The pure joy written all over his face, making Ryan's chest tight with affection, being the cause of that look. "Thank you, Ry. This means more than you'd think." 

Ryan knows exactly what Shane wanted to say, but he chooses to ignore it for now. He doesn't want to tell him right now, not like this, staring at Shane's pixely face on the screen of his phone.

"I'll go home on the 30th." He says instead, voice rough with emotion. He's waiting for the look of understanding to settle on Shane's face and all his doubts are melting away when he answers, smiling reassuringly at Ryan.

"I'll look for plane tickets." 

It was a terrible idea. What was Ryan thinking, honestly? He looks down at himself again, just to confirm that yes, he's indeed naked, sitting on his bed after a long drive home. He can only blame his stupid, tired brain for coming up with this awful idea.

He has a Santa hat covering his dick, he just texted Shane to come over about twenty minutes ago and Ryan heard his front door click shut about a minute ago. At least he's still hard, despite the nerves and anticipation.

It's one of the stupidest, most reckless thing he's ever done, but it sure will be a hell of a night to remember if Shane is into it. He listens to Shane's heavy footfalls on the stairs and part of him wants to abort the whole thing but he doesn't have the time to even think about a plan before his bedroom door swings open.

Shane's tall form pushes through the door and he stops dead in his tracks, both of them looking like a deer in the headlights. Ryan doesn't know where he gets the courage to speak. He looks good, Ryan notes. Always wearing so many layers, Ryan feels even more exposed at the sight of him. Regardless, he's excited to peel the layers of denim jacket and that henley away, that always shows off Shane's collar bones, turning Ryan's brain to mush whenever he catches sight of them. Shane probably didn't even bother to change, only going home to get rid of his suitcase and coming over right away upon receiving Ryan's text.

"Merry Christmas, big guy." It's incredibly cheesy and Ryan's cringing internally already, but it does the trick, Shane's soon grinning from ear to ear, but his eyes are dark, almost predatory as his eyes roam down Ryan's arms, his abs... Ryan's cock jerks under the Santa hat and he almost laughs at the weirdness of that thought.

"You look ridiculous, oh my god." Shane is laughing and Ryan's blush spreads down to his chest, even more embarrassed. But then Shane comes up to him, arms already winding around Ryan's waist and Ryan takes the cue and reaches up to tangle both his hands into Shane's hair, _finally_ , dragging him down into a bruising kiss. 

"Is this a new thing we're doing every year?" He continues, muffled by Ryan's lips pressed against him, barely kissing at this point, just grinning against each other's mouths.

"Yeah, add it to the list. Shopping, baking, doing kinky shit with the Santa hat..." Ryan trails off as he tilts his head up, so he reaches Shane's chin perfectly, pressing a series of soft kisses there, trailing down his jaw. Shane loves him so much.

He presses his whole body against Ryan's, their height difference is not making the angle effortless, but none of them care at the moment, Shane certainly doesn't, when Ryan's fingers tighten in his hair, _pulling_ and his hips jerk forward on their own accord. He feels Ryan's grin against his lips again, one of those self-satisfied ones that makes Shane feel hot all over.

"So, you enjoy my hair, huh?" Shane murmurs, between short little kisses.

"It's been ruining my life, now that you mention it." Ryan huffs out a laugh, diving back for more, a tiny bit annoyed by how he has to stand on his tippy toes to do so, but letting Shane deepen the kiss and lick into his mouth. It's everything he ever wanted and even more.

The Santa hat gets caught between their hips for only a second before Shane's hand is reaching down between the tight space between them, wrapping a hand around Ryan's cock, not wasting any time because they have so many months and years to catch up on.

And Ryan nearly sobs from absolute relief, letting out a hiss when Shane gets a hand around him, bucking into it like he's been touched for the first time. Maybe it should be weird, the fact that it's Shane touching and kissing him, but it feels more right than anything.

Everything slows down when Shane gently pushes him down to the bed and Ryan has to close his eyes for a few seconds because seeing those big hands grabbing onto his hips firmly, but carefully and then stroking down his thighs, spreading them just a bit more apart, so effortlessly... That sight might be a little too much to handle.

So, he grabs Shane by the arms, tugging him closer firmly for another rough kiss, relishing in the delighted surprise and flush on his face from being moved around with such ease. In a rush of confidence, it's Ryan's turn to gently shove him down on the bed, settling on Shane's thighs and looking at him a smug little grin. Shane looks fucking wrecked. 

"Someone liked that," Ryan comments, not even trying to hide the self-satisfaction dripping from his tone

"Someone's cocky." Shane shoots back, his voice is beautifully hoarse already and Ryan didn't even touch him yet. He wants to though, now that his hands are resting on Shane's hips, under his shirt. He's holding him down just slightly, just so Shane can't move when Ryan finally takes action. 

He can see the hard length of him through his chinos, it makes a pretty picture, Ryan thinks. And then he doesn't, he just runs the palm of his hand over the front of Shane's pants, ever so carefully, thrilled by the long exhale Shane makes, followed by a frustrated _whine_ , trying to lift his hips, to press into Ryan's hand more, but Ryan's other hand on his hips keeping him even more firmly in place, just teasing him. It's infuriatingly hot.

"That's what you get for that morning" Ryan murmurs, breaking into a soft laugh at the sight of Shane's face, it's rare to see him so openly panicked.

"You were awake?" 

"Of course I was, dude! I nearly kissed you, you asshole. Fucking groping me in my sleep..." He trails off, but there is a big smile on his face, and amusement in his voice.

"Shit, Ry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to- I wasn't thinking." Shane closes his eyes, he's never been so embarrassed in his life. He only opens them again when Ryan's hands come up cup his cheeks and they're kissing again, much slower and sweeter than before.

"I'm not mad, Shane, it's okay." Ryan presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth and then his chin, trailing down his jaw, sending a little thrill down Shane's spine, distracting him very effectively. 

"It is?" He gasps softly. He still feels guilty, because it's inexcusable, no matter what Ryan thinks.

Ryan nods, digging his teeth into one of Shane's collarbones because he wanted to for God knows how long, smiling against his skin as he hears Shane take a sharp breath. "I wanted this for a while, big guy." He hums, leaning away to look at him, eyes dark and pupils blown wide.

Instead of answering, Shane drags him up into another long, deep kiss. He'll have time to apologize some more later, and _he sure fucking does_.

All Ryan can think about for the next hour or so is those hands, touching him everywhere, his abs, his chest, _his cock_. Shane rolls his nipples between those awfully delicate fingers of his, making Ryan cry out, and purposefully ignoring how his dick is jerking at the sensation, how it has been leaking steadily ever since Shane first touched him.

Those lips, wrapping around the head of Ryan's cock, while Shane's clever fingers push into him, aided by a copious amount of lube, filling him up and stretching him so perfectly. Shane mouthing along the length of him and pressing his tongue just under the head of Ryan's cock until it takes him apart completely, turning him into a moaning, shuddery mess. He wants to do so many things, take Shane in his hand, explore the many many inches of him with his mouth. 

Ryan wants to hold him against the wall, fuck into him, making him come just from that, and Ryan's hand in his hair, because he knows he could. He wants to cherish the flushed, pleased look on Shane's face as he rides him, dying to take all of his beautiful cock.

None of them can hold out too long, unfortunately, but it's alright, Shane reassures him, murmuring against the inside of Ryan's thigh, sucking some marks there, which Ryan finds surprisingly hot. They have all the time in the world now to try other things.

All Ryan can think about is how Shane wraps his arms around his waist about half an hour later, their legs tangled, and Shane pressing a chain of gentle kisses on his shoulder before both of them are passing out, boneless and all blissed out. None of them needs to do much talking at the moment, perfectly understanding each other without words. 

They both know they're on the same page.

And next year, there are no flatmates, asking Ryan if he'll spend Christmas with someone. There are only Shane's arms around him, Obi's soft purr vibrating through his side. There is only their brand new apartment, still full of unpacked boxes. They'll barely be able to find a pan to make breakfast, Ryan thinks, they'll probably have to order in, _again_. 

But when Ryan turns around, getting an arm full of his sleepy boyfriend, he knows wouldn't trade it for the world and he finally looks forward to the first weeks of December he dreaded a year ago. 

They have a bunch of shopping, wrapping and baking to do, after all. Not to mention the exciting start of their new company.


End file.
